


Don't Chain The Chickadee

by Chaoswithtea



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Asura (Guild Wars), Blood and Violence, Charr (Guild Wars), Explicit Language, Guild Wars 2 - Freeform, Heterochromia, Magic, Multi, Nicknames, No magic for you, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Apocalypse, Self-Indulgent, Sign Language, Slow Build, Sylvari (Guild Wars), The dog has more magic than you, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-11-02 00:22:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20558462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaoswithtea/pseuds/Chaoswithtea
Summary: Don't chain me, don't break me. Don't clip my wings and claim it's my destiny!-------------------------------------------------Born and raised in the crumbling ruins of Earth, a Scavenger is unwillingly dragged into the world of Tyria in the hope's of bringing change.Defiant and stubborn as hell - she's either the best or worst person destined to claim the title of Commander.Act 1:Clipped WingsChapters 1 - ??-------------------------------------------------Rated M for violence, blood, and adult language.





	1. Little Bird, Little Trinkets

Earth was a shell of it once was.

Towns bustling with life and full of boundless energy is now broken down to a empty scrapyards. A rusted, broken ghost of it once was that nature slowly take over bit by bit.

All it took was one angry man. Then another, and another. More and more countries began taking sides and tensions were so high you could slice it with a knife. Verbal threats soon were no longer enough and next thing you knew a war like no other broke out.

For 30 long years the world slowly tore itself apart without mercy. 

Entire countries destabilized, bombs were dropped and the death toll across the globe reached unthinkable numbers. Destruction and chaos ruled with a iron fist.

Beautiful cities and landscapes transformed into wastelands. Only a quarter of the human population remains. Most that survived huddled into the ruins of large cities, turning them into walled off fortresses and smaller settlements. Others chose to live alone or in small groups, living a nomadic lifestyle scavenging and bartering with said cities.

The Old World is dead. Civilization that we all know and love is dead and gone. The sad excuse that remains cannot compare yet it still is somehow alive - hanging by a thread.

\-------------------------------------------------

"Come on, Magnum! We agreed on the price before I gave it to you for repair. Now if ya could just...gimme..."

A very loud sounding voice boomed in the repair shack descended into a series of grunts and curses. Anyone walking by might have assumed a bloodbath was about to start based on the sounds. But in reality based on the amused look of the shopkeeper had plastered on his face while he held the offending item in one hand and the owner of the loud voice in the other to prevent her from climbing him like a tree, it was anything but.

He could snap the freckled blonde in half with his pinky considering he was close to seven feet tall and enough muscles to bench press a pickup truck. Dark chocolate brown skin, a multitude tattoos (all steampunk and bone themed) and a short military hairstyle for his salt and pepper colored hair - Magnum was a intimidating looking man not to be messed with. But inside he was filled with patience and fluff. He treated Chickadee like someone would a hyperactive puppy.

A puppy who was _still_ mumbling curses while flailing her arms up trying to reach the mp3 player he was holding over her. Being barely a half inch over five feet tall she wasn't going to win this battle, but that didn't mean she was going to stop trying. He chuckled at her screeching and simply held it a little higher.

"I know S-" He had to cut himself off before saying her real name. Ever since the world went to hell a unspoken law was made were everyone was required to use a nickname in public. Real names were only for families in private. She was like a adopted daughter to both Magnum and his husband. But they were still considered in public so he had to bite his tongue. "Chickadee. But I added a few extra surprises that are worth at least a few pairs of mended socks and some scavenging."

That made her stop her flailing. Her Belgian malinois (and shop's unofficial mascot when she was in town), Queenie, seemed to perk her ears up in interest. "What kind of 'extras'?" She asked. 

His socks were gross so he wasn't the least bit surprised at the pause and mock suspicious look on her face.

"Other then the fixed earbuds and getting it all charged up," He began, smirking at her mismatched heterochromia eyes growing as big as saucers, her interest outweighing the suspicion about his socks. "I added a few songs since you music selection was awful. I know you love Zack Hemsey, you're welcome. AND!" Magnum said while quickly dipping behind his front counter. He popped back up, revealing the USB cord for the mp3 player and a device about the size of a hand. "I'm using you as a guinea pig for this but if it works you now have a solar charger."

By the time he was finished speaking, Chickadee was practically vibrating in excitement with tears in her eyes. Christmas had come early for her. "Hell YES I'll mend your whole wardrobe if needed." She said with a smile, cupping her hands as he gave her her goodies. 

The mp3 player of hers was a relic of the old world, an old battered Walkman model made before touchscreens were a thing. She could sell it for a pretty penny, but just like her mom's kalimba that was hidden in the very depths of her backpack, it was treasured and never to be sold.

"Perfect! You can put all your crap back in your bag, I like your idea better as long as your up for it. Everything is getting holes in it anyways. I prefer to actually stay warm this winter." He said with a grin. Magnum had a gift of taking apart and fixing anything electronic (his shop was only one of three in the whole Settlement with electricity). But he couldn't sew worth a damn no matter how hard he tried. Chickadee on the other hand could sew, knit and do anything when it came to yarn and fabric. She grew up on a homestead sort of farm, and her parents tried to cram in as much skills as they could considering the war started before she was born. She was a jack of all trades. Well unless it came to electronics and metal, she was screwed in that department.

Hell, she was the only person he knew that actually knew how to make homemade soap. Soap! It was worth it's weight in gold. If she didn't hate the Settlements so much she would do great owning her own business.

"I got quite a bit you'll need to mend so it'll take a couple of days. You know the guest room is yours to use while you work. Still want the list for your next scavenging rounds?"

Ever the Scavenger at heart, she quickly nodded while picking up her bags off of the countertop.

-*-*-*-

"Take it."  
"No."  
" Why can't you just let me shower with love and TAKE. IT!"

After three days of nonstop sewing, and mending socks that were more hole then fabric, Chickadee was ready to head out of the settlement to go back scavenging. But before leaving she was determined to give both Magnum and his husband, Roulette, a thank you gift - matching knitted hats that were perfect for winter. Magnum was currently refusing saying it was too much while his husband sat off to the side knowing good entertainment when he saw it.

"No Chickadee, you could get a weeks supply of food if you sold those."  
"Take it or I'll...uh..."

Oh this was going to be good. Chickadee was awful at making plans on the spot. Both he and his husband raised their eyebrows in amused anticipation. "What are you going to do Chicky?"

"I'll spread scandalous rumors around the settlements." Everyone knew it was complete and utter bullshit with zero venom in it. She was having a very hard time saying it with a straight face. She had, on multiple occasions, beat the ever living shit out of people trying to do anything harmful to the couple. Verbal or otherwise. To her, they were family.

"That, um, I'm your illegitimate child!"

Roulette piped in from his seat. "Hate to" *snort* "break it to you but we already adopted you."

"I'm the daughter he abandoned!" Magnum looked at her up and down without saying a word. Uh huh, sure.

"I, um....I take after my Mom?"

Magnum no longer containing his smile and loudly laughed in amused disbelief, his husband was wheezing so hard he almost fell out of his chair. Chickadee's shoulders shook in silent laughter while doing a very poor job at keeping a straight face.

Sia "Chickadee" Thatcher was a short and thin looking 22 year old female - barely scraping a half inch over five feet tall. Long light blond hair covered her head, always in a simple braid with choppy bangs that could probably use a good trimming. Her light skin was covered in multitude of spots and freckles that could rival a appaloosa. Complete with heterochromia eyes, one green eye and the other half brown half vivid shade of ice blue. Yes, clearly she resembled Magnum.

Oh such a threat. Whatever would they do with such a rumor? Such scandal!

With a loud sigh and mock frustration, he finally took the gifts as he rolled his eyes (completely unable to keep a straight face the entire time). His husband was still laughing and wheezing....very loudly.

"Thank you." He said sincerely with a smile. Roulette, finally able to breath again, got up to take his hat and give her a fatherly kiss on top of her head and ruffled up her hair, much to her displeasure as she tried to smooth it back down.

"You're welcome." She said with a smile, whistling for Queenie to come as she turned around to head out. She a final wave goodbye to them both, Chickadee all but bolted out of the Settlement with her dog. 

While she enjoyed the company and having a actual roof over her head, she couldn't stay in one place for too long and wanted to get back to work and keep moving. 

They knew it, she knew it. The only thing that kept her in one place for more then a week was serious injury or illness.

She was one of those tiny percent of people that chose a Scavenger's lifestyle. Life as one was dangerous, constantly on the move, and you never knew if your haul would pay good or not, but she hated those overly crowded settlements everyone else wanted to live in. Magnum was fine with it but it wasn't a life for her. Too cramped, too many people with dead eyes and broken souls. No freedom.

Refusing to feel like you're dead inside and act like cattle waiting for slaughter in such a cramped space, Chickadee took a scavengers lifestyle any given day. As long as she was in one piece and she had her dog Queenie, she was happy.

-*-*-*-

After roughly eight hours of walking, Chickadee's sore feet reminded her that scavenging was not a easy job. Or good smelling. She checked random cars and old torn down buildings on the way to the ruins in hope for any salvage. Other then a old rope scrap Queenie found (and currently using as a makeshift toy) she didn't find anything of interest.

But are you surprised? You are the vulture of the world, taking the scraps left behind in places others never want to go into. More often then not most places are already picked clean.

Having a car would have made the trip easier. In the old world at least. But that is dead and gone; good luck finding one that worked, find a supply gas needed for it to run, and road neither torn apart or crowded with abandoned vehicles among various other things. Don't bother thinking about horses - you had to be mega wealthy to take care of them, or like most people, you just ate them.

It didn't pay to be picky in times like these. Whole settlements have died off during winter when food ran out. 

_Speaking of winter._

Chickadee looked up at the grey clouds overhead. It was late summer / early autumn now, but based on the clouds and the chill running through her, winter might pay a early visit. She didn't want that, last year she at least found a old railcar to call home before snow tried to settle in.

Any shelter was good shelter compared to being stuck out in the middle of a snowstorm. 

She stopped her traveling to dig out her fingerless gloves and black bandana out of her rucksack. She was wearing brown leather boots, black cargo pants, a medium blue colored quarter sleeved shirt and an old dark teal colored hoodie that had seen better days. Even with the jacket the wind blew right through her. She didn't have much so she had to make due at the moment.

"Come here Queenie, you need your booties on before we go farther in." She said as the dog happily trotted over. Those cost Chickadee an arm and a leg but it was worth it to keep her paws safe from sharp debris an cold during winter time. She scratched the dog's black ears with a smile while watching the tail wag at superspeed levels. Worth every penny as long as she was happy.

Once the booties were secured she continued into the ruins. It used to be a town, at one point. Small and likely survived off of tourism back in the old world. But after being hit dead center with a fire bomb it was now a glorified rubble pile. No building stood and those that were somewhat standing were so damaged it was a death trap if you went in. Nobody bothered to rebuild and live here, they just chose greener pastures. 

Chickadee pulled out the list Magnum gave her. Old cell phones, books, a toaster, canned food and first aid supplies...yeah she might have to find a different ruin for what he wanted.

Pretty sure bigfoot was easier to find than a working toaster.

She shrugged as she continued hunting for scraps. She wasn't going to overlook the place, just in case. Hopping over broken chunks of concrete, ducking under giant steel bars jutting out of building piles, she combed the charred area for anything she could sell later. 

Brick by brick the clocked ticked by with no luck. She was about to call it quits as she walked out of the rubble, when she noticed a glint out of the corner of her eye. She looked at Queenie and back to the area. The dog gave off a tired huff. It had been a long day.

But it wouldn't hurt to check out one last little thing, right?

Slowly she creeped to where she saw the blink. It was another rumble pile, one of many, but there was a space open underneath big enough to squeeze half her body under. Chickadee stopped to pull out a small flashlight from her backpack, not wanting to shove a hand blindly in a dark space.

she quietly told Queenie to stay as she slid down onto her stomach while shining her light. She saw a very battered, very dirty looking metal box underneath. So old and dented she was curious how no one had grabbed it. Whatever she was just happy she finally found something. A couple stretches later and her fingers got ahold of it to drag it out. 

"Let's see what's in here." She said to herself as she sat back up with the box in her lap. It was bigger then she thought now that it was in her lap, it could use some cleaning with all the dirt and rust but she could sell it still. Chickadee ran her fingers over the top to brush off some dirt. She couldn't quite tell based on all the dents and scratches but she could feel a design in the metal with her fingers.

It didn't appear to have any locks on it, though the grim alone made opening it a challenge. But once opened Chickadee's nostalgia rose up from the depths of her mind like a zombie rising from a grave.

A dnd d20 dice in a black large drawstring leather pouch, a guild wars 2 world map poster, a leather bound journal that only had a couple pages used (sketches or dragons, neat!), some sort of necklace, and a choya plush in perfect condition. Holy shit, the journal alone could give her enough to not worry about anything for the next month.

With the utmost care Chickadee unfolded the poster to look at it. She had a sad but happy looking smile on her face as memories flooded her mind. Guild wars 2 was a game she and her dad played daily to relax after the end of the day for about three years straight. He had always believed in having hobbies and something to relax with that made you happy. He had a variety of both games and books, her mom on the other hand had a kalimba instrument. Chickadee learned to love them all.

Good gosh did she miss the internet, and simpler times. The war started before she was born, but it didn't truly fall into shit until she was 17. She gently folded the map and put it back into it's place and picked up the necklace to get a better look. It reminded her of a choker, a thick strap (leather, or something else? She didn't know but it was soft!) With a rectangular brass plate, dented and seen better days like the box it was in, minus the dirt the box had. On the center of the center of the brass was the guild wars 2 logo stamped into it. A simple little trinket, but it was one she really liked.

"Got enough for the day Queenie, lets head ba- OUCH!" She jerked with the sudden sharp pain and looked at her hand. She was in the process of putting the necklace back but while looking at the dog she cut her hand on the corner of the box. She had dropped the necklace when she jerked and now had blood dripping on it.

More things to clean, fantastic.

Chickadee huffed as she picked it back up. As soon as her fingers touched the necklace, black spots began to fill her vision and the world seemed to fade. Her hand started to feel like she was holding a hot iron.

The last thing she remembered as she hit the ground was a bright red glow from the necklace and Queenie frantically whimpering while pressing up against her.


	2. Mists and Magic

"Hello...?"

When Chickadee woke up, she wasn't in the ruins she passed out in. Queenie wasn't with her anymore, all her stuff was gone, and she was on her own in a place she had never seen before. With shaky legs she carefully walked over to the edge she woke up near. 

Her mismatched eyes started to gather details of her surroundings, the more the looked the more panic began to bubble up. 

She was on a small floating island, surrounded by a thick mist. A patch of grass and rock, with a small pond and stream. A large and very crooked tree stood next to it. The stream ended at the island's edge, it's eternally flowing waters making a beautiful waterfall. 

In her current state she wasn't enjoying the view. She was too busy silently freaking the fuck out. She was completely and utterly alone. Not a soul in sight, and while she could see the outlines of more floating islands in the mist filled distance, none were close enough to see if anyone or anything was on them. 

She didn't know where the hell she was, how she got here, or where Queenie was. She would have thought she was dead if it wasn't for the burning pain coming from her dominant hand.

Chickadee walked over to the tree and sat down, glancing at her clinched fist. She hissed as she tried opening it to view the damage. Involuntary tears sprang from her eyes as she grit her teeth. 

Her hand looked like someone branded it. Literally. 

The guild wars 2 emblem that was on the necklace was now on the center of the palm of her hand, currently oozing blood from reopened cracks in the burn. Red and angry looking (to put it lightly), she could see blisters already starting to form. It was going to give her hell while healing. Being on her dominant hand, doing anything that needed her hands would be a challenge. 

"What the hell is going on." She said with gritted teeth, tears leaving trails down her face. Chickadee pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Or tried to with how her hand was. She didn't know how how to get off the island and she sure as hell wasn't going to jump. She was stuck here.

She hoped Queenie was okay. The poor dog was freaking out to no end when she passed out.

Chickadee took some deep breaths to try to calm down as she sat. Stars, she was tired. Everything was sore and her hand was a throbbing mess but she sure as hell didn't feel safe nor relaxed enough to take a nap. For minutes or hours she wasn't sure (time was weird here) she sat in silence, listening to the waterfall and occasional breeze rustle the leaves in the tree. 

She didn't deny it helped her anxiety. It was...quiet, calming, and dare say peaceful. Something she hadn't had much of her entire life. 

Unfortunately for here the peaceful atmosphere seemed to shatter in a million pieces when the island suddenly shook and a hurricane like gusting slapped into her body. Chickadee scrambled up so fast she ended up tripping over her own feet and landing on her knees.

A rumbling growl broke through the air. So deep in tone she could feel her chest vibrate. Chickadee froze in place on her knees at both the sound and what she saw in she looked up.

Across the island (which, considering it's small size, wasn't that far) was a massive dragon. A. Actual. Dragon.

Too large to even sit on the floating land properly, it clung onto the island with it's massive crystalline claws. She could tell they were far from dull as she watched them dig into the rock like fingernails in wet tissue paper. Chickadee was too scared to turn around to look but she could hear it's tails curling around the whole island itself for support.

Equal parts dangerous and beautiful in looks. A deep rich color of blue, it looked like a living gemstone. Spikes of crystal encrusted it's body, if looked at close enough even the scales themselves seemed to be made of opal. Even it's wings did not look like wings but crystal spikes that floated behind. A kaleidoscope of colors danced in the light that reflected off of each individual spike.

Chickadee didn't want to think of the terms in size. Each massive eye alone was larger then her head. 

Saying she was terrified was an understatement. Though she was still kneeling in the dirt from her fall she was too frozen in fear to get up. Or move, or stop her body from shaking.

Her injured hand throbbed. Her jerking around opened more of the crusted burnt flesh and fresh scabs. She kept her fist shut to try to keep the bleeding to a minimum. 

So there she kneeled, watching the dragon watch her. It had a... oddly calculated look on it's face. She practically jumped out of her skin when it gowled once more and actually _spoke_.

"Hmph. You're not what I expected." It said as it leaned it's head closer to Chickadee's body. It's voice sounded feminine, and it held both wisdom and age beyond years. It kinda reminded her of a grandmother's voice in a way. 

"But you'll have to do."

_Wait, what?_

What sounded like a mix of a growl and a laugh came from the dragon. Oh. Either that came out loud or it can read minds. 

In this case it was both.

She slowly and shakily got up from her knees and stood up, not taking an eye off the dragon. It took a couple seconds to find the courage to find her voice.

"Who...who a-are you?" Chickadee asked quietly with a winch. She had around 500 more questions but she could only handle one at a time. Her body still shook and it was hard to control both it and the stutter in her voice. 

"You may call me Glint, Little Bird." The dragon answered, not noticing nor not caring how Chickadee's body became as stiff as a board with a sharp intake of breath. 

She may not have recognized the dragon's appearance but she most certainly remembered the name and who it belonged to. A few puzzle pieces clicked into place. "Where are we? H-" 

A thought suddenly came to mind and interrupt her question.

There's no way...could it? Didn't hurt to ask.

"Are we i-in the mists?" 

Glint gave her a nod for a answer, seeming pleased she figured _some_ answers quickly. "Correct. I brought you here to discuss some things before sending you into Tyria. The world needs y-"

"No!"

It wasn't wise to interrupt Glint, or to disagree with her. But Chickadee's had was fully onboard the NOPE train and she can't turn back time to take back what just exploded from her mouth. She remembered back to how the game was in some aspects (she hadn't played on it in what...five years give or take? Some things were foggy), but she knew she would, very likely, not survive her first week.

"You are the only one capable for this task." Glint countered, patient as ever. She foresaw this happening and was ready for it. The argument was doomed for Chickadee from the start. 

Chickadee opened her mouth to reply but the dragon cut in like a mother about to give a life lesson to a stubborn child. "Every living thing - creature, plant, or otherwise, has some magic in them. Not everyone is aware of it, but it's always there, always apart of life. The Elder Dragons use this for their corruption and consume it."

"I don't see how I-"

"YOU however have so little magic that even I can barely sense it. A corpse has more magic than you do. Not only that, but what little magic you do have seems to be...different."

"...H-how different exactly? I didn't even know magic existed!"

Suddenly with a flash, the necklace Chickadee found in the ruins was floating in between the two. The emblem on it glowed a vivid shade of red.

"This was sent to your world to simply gauge the magic of it's user." She stated as the trinket lazily spun in the air. "It's a simple little thing really. I enchanted it to change it's appearance with every person along with few other minor things so people would want to get ahold of it. It has traveled quite a bit from person to person in the years since I've placed it there."

Chickadee never thought anything like that was possible but here she is talking about magic to a fucking dragon so what the hell does she know anymore.

"For you my dear your very soul outright _**rejected**_ it's magic to the point of it causing injury. It overloaded trying to read you."

A pause in the air while Chickadee thought over the information, trying to wrap her head around it. "So you're telling me I'm...allergic to magic?" She asked, both unsure on how to answer and quite frankly, confused as hell. She could feel a headache forming slowly. 

"Your body seems to have a opposite effect on magic. What was meant to help harmed you, and what's meant to harm didn't do a thing. "

A expression she couldn't read crossed Glint's face and worry crawled down her spine. What did she mean by it trying to harm her...?

Before she could voice her concern, Glint continued. "Because of this, you may never be able to use magic yourself."

Well, that sucks. That just made surviving Tyria more diffecult! Not that she wanted to go there anyways. She just wanted to go back to Earth. Let someone else deal with this shit.

"However, you are immune to the Elder Dragons corruption. This is the reason Tyria needs you - you are the only one who can stand against them and not be corrupted by their influence. "

Self preservation went out the window by the time Glint was finished. She didn't want this, she wanted to go home. Give the job to someone else! She's just a scavenger. What good would she do?

She voiced all of this and ignored the complaints. If any answers were given they were short of not unhelpful. 

"But if someone tries to heal me for whatever reason I could die! "

"You'll be fine."

"Do they even speak english in Tyria? Considering it's a completely different WORLD?!"

The dragon huffed a breath of air, sending Chickadee's light colored bangs in every direction. "Improvise."

"That didn't answer my question." Chickadee said with a groan. That wasn't even mentioning the issue on written language. 

Though because Glint could hear her thoughts she could hear those along with a endless stream of questions, concerns, and cursing.

Lots and lots of cursing...

The dragon's patience was finally wearing thin. "You'll be fine, I have faith in you. You will make a excellent Commander in time. Now please hold still, it takes a great deal of concentration not to turn you inside out." 

"WAIT-" With a flash opal light Chickadee dropped unconscious like a sack of potatoes before she could finish her sentence. 

Glint sent her straight into the heart of Tyria while thanking every upper power for the peace and quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glint: Congrats here is your new job!
> 
> Chickadee: I don't want it give it to someone else.
> 
> Glint: Tough titties. *Yeets her into Tyria *


	3. Wake Up

Good new, still alive and in one piece! Bad news, everything fucking hurts...

A lot.

One by one, Chickadee's senses slowly returned to her as she woke. The more she became aware of both her memories and feelings, the more she wanted to do nothing but lay there and embrace her spirit animal - road kill.

All she wanted to do was sleep for the next week with how tired she felt. You would think after passing out twice for who knows how long would grant some sort of rest. But alas, it's not the same as actual sleep. Her ears rang, both head and hand throbbed, and she felt like every other part of her body was ripped apart on a cellular level and put back together. Poorly.

She made a involuntary moan of pain as she open her eyes, squinting as a stream of light invaded them. The blurred mess that was her vision slowly cleared back to normal, thankfully, and she was able to gather her surroundings.

Chickadee was laying on a floor of a abandoned shack. One room, kinda small. Dark wood floors, walls, and ceiling - all unpainted and seen better days. Full of dust and cobwebs, the place hadn't seen cleaning in a _long_ time based on the looks... and smells. 

It was stuffy and smelled like someone threw a bucket of cheap cigar ashes in the whole room (ew... ). A couple wooden barrels were stores in a corner on the far left side of the room along with a half torn down rope hammock. A lot of trash (booze bottles, paper among other things) was scattered on the floor.

She could see a kitchen counter along the far wall next to the barrels wall with cabinets, some torn apart with no doors. No table or furniture, what windows the shack did have were covered in grime. 

Ignoring the protests of her sore muscles, she slowly pushes herself off the floor and into a sitting position. Her hearing was still ringing but the more it cleared the more she could hear the sounds of seagulls outside and the loud all too familiar whimpers of a dog behind her. 

"Queenie!?!" She practically screamed as she whipped her head around to see the dark Belgian malinois behind her. The dog was near the front door laying on top of all Chickadee's things that were on the floor, whining and watching her. But as soon as her name was spoke she started wagging her tail a million miles per hour and she bolted towards her and jumped onto Chickadee's lap.

Queenie was a sight for sore eyes. Big brown eyes that currently had the saddest puppy dog look she had ever seen. Black colored head, ears, legs and chest. The rest of her body would have been a fawn brown color is not for the black on it seeming to have a smoke effect to the color and pattern. What was it called, dark fawn? Whatever, Chickadee loved her no matter what color she was. 

She was so happy to see her again. Queenie was only two years old, and Chickadee had had her since she was a puppy. But in the short time she's had her by her side she was considered family and was irreplaceable. She was her helper, her rock in hard times, somone to talk to in the loneliness of the wastes, and on too many cases - her body guard. In Chickadee's mind she was the best damn dog on earth. And Tyria.

With the dog happily sitting in her lap, she broke down into sobs in the dog's fur. All the stress, pain, fear and shock finally hit like a semi truck. 

"I thought I lost you..." She sniffled while petting Queenie's fur. 

The dog was more than happy for pets and kisses. She sat happily in her lap, wiggling around in a hyper manner and gave Chickadee gentle licks on her arms while she calmed down. It took a couple minutes for the sobs to die down to occasional hiccups. She let Queenie out of her grip so the dog wouldn't feel trapped, her eyelids grew more and more heavy with every breath she took. Her exhaustion finally hitting a point she could no longer ignore the call the get real sleep.

-*-*-*-

Chickadee woke up from her dreamless sleep with a groan. Sun light no longer assaulted her eyes and the soft sounds of crickets could be heard in the distance. The whole room was dark and it appeared to be around the middle of the night. Moonlight gently shone through the dirty windows.

She wasn't sure how long she slept for, but at least most of her soreness was gone and she felt human again. Her hand felt better too, though it still hurt like hell. 

She looked down to see Queenie curled up next to her chest. The dog woke up with a snort when Chickadee tried to move to get up.

It looked like both needed the rest.

Chickadee gave the dog's soft black head a gentle pat as she got up and walked over to her gear on the floor. 

In her mind she was trying to form a plan. If nothing else, a plan if survival at the very least. Chickadee was still pissed over Glint dragging her into _a completely different fucking world_ without her having any say so...or even a heads up. 

So, first steps of her plan: shelter, supplies, and figure out where exactly she was. 

She already had shelter, so she was okay for the moment. (as long as it wasn't owned by anyone ready to bust in demanding rent...) She would cleaning up and use it as a base of operations for as long as possible. 

Chickadee picked up her thing and brought it over to the kitchen counter. Now for the supplies. At least she had some of her things from earth, so she wasn't defenceless or without the basics. 

For weapons she had her black compound bow with about two dozen assorted arrows, and survival knife. After patting down the pockets of her cargo pants she found her switchblade she kept on her in case of emergencies. The bow used to be her Dad's hunting bow, modified for a little extra draw weight, and had a shoulder strap attached so it was portable.

It didn't matter if you were in a settlement or, like her, living in the wastelands, you never wanted to go unarmed. Though she was pretty sure compound bows weren't a thing in Tyria (if her memory was correct it was just the recurve variety here) so she would have to hide her rucksack over it to avoid questions.

She had her khaki colored (waterproof, suck it crappy weather!) rucksack with a forest green bed roll strapped onto the bottom. Queenie still had her backpack harness on along with booties, so she had inventory room. She began to dig through all the compartments and pockets to see what she had and if anything was missing. 

A couple extra pair of cargo pants (hey, they were comfy and had tons of pockets!), a couple shirts ( tank tops - they took up less room), undergarments and socks. A leather belt she slipped on. Lacking but okay for the moment. She would eventually need some sort of armor but considering she didn't have a copper to her name that would have to wait.

A small travel pouch with her bar of soup, toothbrush and sample size tube of toothpaste, deodorant, and a hairbrush that had the handle break off. Along with her supplies for her monthly hell. She ran out of her tiny supply of ibuprofen ages ago...she wasn't looking forward for mother nature beating the shit out of her.

Fire starter, compass, a bundle of paracord, a travel size first aid kit that was seriously lacking. Canteen of water, another (after getting Queenie to hold still) was in the harness. She took the booties off and stored them in a pocket while she got her still for a second. Queenie's harness stored a pair of nail clippers for her claws, and a nylon leash in case people got jumpy with her walking without one. Queenie always wore her matching black nylon collar no matter what.

Other then her food supply, wrist strap and field press for her bow, and her entertainment (her Mom's kalimba and her mp3 player) that was about it. Nothing missing, so she was happy. Chickadee organized, folded and put everything back into their rightful places, silently congratulating her tetris skills with organization. 

She glanced across the room. Oh, the stupid box was still there. Of course Glint would bring that along. With a exasperated sigh, she brought it over to the counter top as well. 

The box was no longer covered in rust or grime, it now looked brand new and shiny as ever. Inside the poster was now a rolled up map of Tyria, thick and sturdy. The leather drawstring pouch still had the d20 dice in it. Chickadee tied it to her belt to use it as a coin pouch. Maybe she could hustle a few people for some gold using the dice, there were always gamblers somewhere. The necklace was missing, but the choya plush and leather bound journal was still there.

Chickadee couldn't think of a single use for that. Use it as a prize to get more people to gamble their gold? Maybe, depends if people actually like toys. "Whatever, Queenie it's yours if no one wants it." She said as she shoved the map, journal and toy into her pack. She would leave the metal box in the room, she could only hold so much. 

With a sharp whistle, she called Queenie over as she gathered her things and headed to the door. She still couldn't see anything but the night sky through the windows so she couldn't tell where in Tyria she was. Maybe Queensdale? That's where you always started when you made a new human character. She shrugged mentally while adjusting the straps of her pack.

She opened the door stepping out as a cold, salt smelling breeze. Now that she was outside she could hear the noise much clearly. Voices of a crowd drifted with the wind, along with crickets and other insect life she didn't recognize. The smells of salt, fish, and smoke hung in the air. A bright full moon was overhead without a cloud in sight.

HOLY SHIT she was high up. The little shack she was in was build on top of an entire ship that was upside down and crammed next to other ships and building attached to them. In front of her was a tiny walkway that lead down some steep, rather unsafe looking stairs. Gangplanks crisscrossed the area with more levels above her. She could see the packed streets below full all sorts of people.

This was not Queensdale.

This was Lions Arch. OLD Lions Arch. 

Crowded and cramped, full of old ships and every race known in Tyria. A city founded by literal pirates. Not the concrete monstrosity filled with creepy octopus buildings that Chickadee knew when she played the game.

Which meant she was set in before Scarlet destroyed the city, and possibly even before Zhaitan was defeated.

Shit she wasn't looking forward to any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating changed from T to M because of the language I enjoy cramming into this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, so let me know if there is anything misspelled or anything like that. It's a little slow going but I hope you all enjoy! c:


End file.
